


Retribution

by Tgaret990



Series: Angel Soulmates, Destiel and Sabriel [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam with archangel grace, And I will enjoy writing Dr. Hess' death scene, And may I just say that YouTube made me fall in love with David Hadyn-Jones and Adam Fergus?, BAMF Mary Winchester, Canon Divergence eventually... ish, Castiel's archangel transformation thing, Crowley does NOT die either... I don't think... permanently at least, Destiel - Freeform, Especially Adam but they're both so precious, Eventual Ketchvies, Flashbacks, Heaven's still at war, I was not the biggest fan of s12 okay?, Ketch and Mary are NOT a thing, Ketch and the boys are not, Loki/Asmodeus alliance, Luci's heart is in the right place, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Michifer - Freeform, Mick and the boys are cool, Mick does NOT die, Rowena coming to save the day, Sabriel - Freeform, Team Real Life angels want to kill the President?, There is more between Mick and Ketch than it seems, Using comic con panels as research on characters, We're using the Colt more because I can and it deserves better, absolutely WRECKING the BMOL, angel infirmaries exist, everyone's after Gabriel, so technically nephilim!Adam???, soulmate rituals, things just got a lot more complicated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tgaret990/pseuds/Tgaret990
Summary: With the Darkness gone, Sam and Dean face a new threat in the form of the British Men of Letters, as well as the return of Adam and Mary. On top of that, there's a fragile, temporary peace on Earth, but Heaven and Hell are on the brink of total collapse, and the war is just beginning. As the past begins to catch up with everyone, can Team Free Will and co. keep the world from falling apart with new enemies on the rise, or will one mistake from the archangels be the end of them all?





	1. Lost and Found

Chapter One: Lost and Found

 

A/N: Welcome, everyone, to the sequel of Sacrifices! _It’s recommended you read that first before diving into this. It won’t make complete sense if you don’t._ Picking up a little bit after we left off with Dean and Mary. Here’s the one where Luci **isn’t** a huge, evil dick (most of the time), Mary does **not** betray her boys and get brainwashed, Mick **doesn’t** die, our boys can sometimes use words, and Crowley gets his line and his moment(s). I had this chapter done back in… October, I believe, but when I went back through it there were so many things I didn’t like about it, so I scrapped a lot of it and rewrote many, many things. I’m so sorry it took so long to upload!!! *takes deep breath and claps hands together* Alright, let’s do this!

 

Disclaim: I do not own anything you see and recognize here but my story and ideas. All other things Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke and all the other lovely people who make Supernatural what it is.

  


    Dean and Mary walked out of the store, Mary sporting a new pair of jeans, combat boots, a tank top, and a navy green jacket. The shop owner had given them strange looks when they’d walked in, Mary in a nightgown, a bewildered look on her face. She’d shown surprise at the various outlandish clothing trends she ran into, but eventually found something to fit her tastes. Being back… It was a bit, okay, a lot, to adjust to. Finding out her boys were hunters, that they’d saved the world, that her John was… Angels, demons, the Darkness. She’d missed out on so many things, and now she was on her way to her boys’ home. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see Sam, all grown up… Eventually, they approached a door hidden from view and Dean pulled a key out of his jacket pocket, unlocking it and pushing it open. He led the way in.

 

     “You live here?” Mary asked as she entered the bunker for the first time, taking in her surroundings.

 

    “Yeah, when we’re not on the road. It’s an old Men of Letters bunker,” Dean replied, heading down the stairs.

 

    “The Men of Letters? They’re a myth, an old hunter’s story,” Mary claimed, following.

 

    “Not so much. The new duds look good,” he told her, referring to her new outfit.

 

    “Well, thanks,” she told him with a short laugh. “It’s better than walking around in that nightgown for the rest—” She stopped herself and paused beside Dean, catching sight of a trail of— “That’s blood,” Mary remarked worriedly.

 

    “Yeah,” Dean agreed, pulling out and cocking his pistol, cautiously following the beginning of the trail. “Sammy?” he called out. “Cas?” he tried. No response. He then noticed the angel banishing sigil, immediately on high alert. Going back into the war room, he grabbed the pistol hidden under the map table and handed it to Mary. “Take this,” he told her. “Stay here.” He left the room before she could protest, scouting out the hallways and other rooms for any signs of the intruder(s). Coming around the corner he ran into a fuming Gabriel, whose scowl vanished at the sight of Dean.

 

    “Still alive and kicking, Dean-o?” he asked with a slight smile. Dean lowered his gun in relief.

 

    “Gabriel, where’s Sam?” Gabriel shook his head, scowl returning.

 

    “I don’t know. By the time I got here, Cas had been banished, Adam knocked unconscious, and Sam was gone. Whoever they were dragged him to the garage and got away, and shot him in the leg while they were at it…”

 

    “And you didn’t go after them?” Dean questioned angrily.

 

    “And leave Adam here? Leave the bunker so you could panic and jump to conclusions when you got here and realized Sam was missing? As much as I wanted to, you needed to know that someone has Sam and that the rest of us were safe, as far as I know.” Dean sighed.

 

    “Alright, I get it. You look after the kid and I’ll head back and see if I can find Cas.”

 

    Back in the war room, Mary, not one to stand idly by at a time like this, made her way into the library, looking around, examining things, but staying alert. The bunker door slamming shut caught her attention, and she positioned herself behind a column, listening to an approaching set of footsteps. When the intruder was close, she aimed the gun at him threateningly.

 

    “Hands in the air. Get on your knees,” she demanded. The intruder glared her down.

 

    “Who are you, and where is Sam?!” he questioned.

 

    “Hands, now!” she reiterated. Dean, hearing the commotion, found Mary and Castiel staring each other down, quickly defusing the situation.

 

    “Whoa whoa whoa,” Dean exclaimed, putting out a placating hand, lowering the pistol for her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. He’s a friend, alright?” Dean looked to Castiel with pure adoration. “Hey, Cas,” he whispered.

 

    “ _Dean_ ,” Castiel uttered, not believing his eyes. They reached for each other, but it was Dean who pulled Castiel into a deep, heartfelt kiss that had Mary stunned and speechless, eyebrows raised. When he pulled away, his and Castiel’s eyes met. “But, what about the bomb and the Darkness? What happened?”

 

    “I’ll tell you everything later, but where’s Sam?”

 

    “He’s not here.”

 

    “Are you… a hunter?” Mary asked him. He turned to her.

 

    “No, I’m an angel,” Castiel replied as if it were obvious.

 

    “Come again?” Mary repeated incredulously.

 

    “Yeah, with a capital A. You know, wings, harp. The whole shebang,” Dean told her with a grin.

 

    “No, I don’t have a harp,” he glared at Dean for a moment and Dean just grinned back.

 

    “Mom, this is Castiel, a friend. He’s—

 

    “His soulmate,” he finished for him. Dean smiled wider.

 

    “That too.” Mary was still looked shocked at the turn of events, but smiled at them both, happy that her son had found his one and only.

 

    “I gathered that,” she replied happily.

 

    “Cas, this is… Mary. Winchester.” That gave the angel pause and he processed that for a moment.

 

    “Your mother,” Castiel stated in awe. He examined her for a moment before turning back to Dean. “How is this possible?”

 

    “Amara, she… Brought her back after her and Chuck made up, as a thank you.” Castiel seemed to relax after that. “But, where’s Sam? He’s not answering his phone, there’s blood on the floor—

 

    “There was a woman waiting for us when we came back here. She blasted me away. When I returned, I found Adam unconscious and Sam was gone. I don’t know who she was. I don’t know what happened to Sam.”

 

    “I don’t understand. What happened?” Mary wasn’t following. Blasting people away, Adam. What was he talking about?

 

    “Okay, well, the bunker’s empty, so—So they’ve obviously left here. You said woman—Not an angel, or, or, a demon. A, a human.”

 

    “She was human,” Castiel confirmed. Dean thought for a moment before heading over to his laptop.

 

    “When did this go down?”

 

    “It was 2:12 A.M.” Mary watched Dean open up his laptop, marveling at how a computer had changed so much. She watched in awe as Dean hacked the traffic cameras in the area, showing an SUV running a red light not ten minutes after the incident.

 

    “Welcome to the future,” Dean told her.

 

    “You think it’s them?” Castiel asked.

 

    “It’s worth a shot,” Dean replied, closing the laptop. “Do you think Adam knows anything we don’t?”

 

    “Who’s… Adam?” Mary asked. Dean looked to her uncertainly and Castiel gave him a sympathetic look.

 

    “After… After you died, dad… He, uh… Met someone… On a hunt… Adam’s our half brother.” Mary took that in with a sigh.

 

    “Did John raise him in the life too?” Dean again paused.

 

    “No. He wanted Adam to have a normal life, and he did. He went to school, studying… Pre-med, I think. Honors student, had a nice apple pie life…” Mary observed him, watched him attempt to keep a straight face.

 

    “What happened?”

 

    “Some ghouls got to him and his mom, wanted revenge for the last time dad was in town on a case… We ganked the bastards and burned his body.”

 

    “But he wasn’t dead for long,” Castiel continued. “The angels needed a vessel for the archangel Michael during the time of the Apocalypse. Dean refused, so they resurrected Adam in the hopes that he would say yes, and he did. After the Apocalypse, Michael, in Adam’s body, was locked in the Cage in Hell with Lucifer… and Sam. One of my brothers, Gabriel, rescued Michael from the Cage recently, when we needed allies to defeat Amara. During a fight with her, Michael was ripped from Adam’s body, and Adam has been with us ever since.”  She was silent for a few moments, shock and confusion written on her face.

 

    “That’s—

 

    “A lot, I know,” Dean told her gently. “A lot’s happened since you’ve been gone… And as soon as we find Sam, we’ll explain everything, I promise. We just need to find out who the Hell it was that took him.”

 

    “It was the British Men of Letters,” a voice spoke up from across the room. Adam stood in the doorway of the library, flanked by a determined looking Gabriel. They made their way into the room and joined the others.

     

    “They have a British version? That’s a thing?” Dean asked incredulously.

 

     “Unfortunately,” Gabriel told him. “I’ve tangoed with those British dicks a time or two. They’re bad news and, chances are, they’ve been keeping tabs on you and Sam for ages now. They’re resourceful, conniving, and downright arrogant… And they have Sam.” Dean then looked to Adam, giving him a worried look.

 

    “How you doin’, kid?” he asked sincerely.

 

    “I should be asking you that. I’m fine. Gabriel fixed my head and I’m still standing.” His eyes fell on Mary. “Who’s this?” he asked, nodding towards her.

 

    “I’m Mary Winchester,” she replied kindly. Adam’s eyes widened in shock, while Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

 

    “Adam,” he replied after a moment.

 

    “The archangel Gabriel, at your service,” he told her with a smile, pressing a kiss to her hand in greeting.

 

    “Archangel?” she asked, not believing her ears.

 

    “Okay, let’s head out before one of you makes her head explode. We can explain on the way, mom,” Dean spoke up. They all agreed, and after Mary had a moment with Baby, which made Dean quite uncomfortable when he put the pieces together, they headed out.

 

XxX

 

    They got out of the Impala once they reached the location of a, “Jamie Ross?” Castiel asked. The man in question turned away from the car he was working on, facing his five guests.

 

    “Who’s asking?” Castiel approached him alone, the others hanging back.

 

    “The blonde woman that you drove yesterday, what was her name?”

 

    “Blonde? Sorry, mate, you got the wrong—” Before he could finish that statement, Castiel grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed him with a viscous headbutt, drawing blood, and then another. Adam and Mary were equally shocked, while Gabriel seemed to be a bit proud.

 

    “Cas!” Dean yelled in warning.

 

    “ _That’s_ an angel?” Mary questioned. Dean gave her an, “Eh,” look.

 

    “Blonde. Name. **Now** ,” Castiel commanded.

 

    “I-I-I don’t know her name,” Ross admitted.

 

    “What _do_ you know?” Castiel asked, right up in his face. Ross spilled, about how she had a guy with her, injured, and needed someone to drive her both back to a classified location and to a veterinarian’s clinic, a Dr. Marion, he believed, that she flew in from somewhere; he gave them the tail number of the plane. With that information, the five drove out towards the clinic, stopping nearby for lunch and a place to run the tail number. According to Dean, the plane that “Evil Elsa” flew in on had diplomatic registry. Castiel sighed in frustration while Gabriel frowned.

 

    “The government! _Fantastic,_ ” he drawled sarcastically.

 

    Right after that statement, Castiel noticed a car pulling into the veterinarian clinic Jamie Ross had mentioned. Dr. Marion admitted to taking a hundred grand from the woman to treat Sam’s leg wound, no questions asked, the day before. After a threat from Castiel, and a showcasing of Mary’s impressive lie detecting skills, he also told them he had the blonde woman’s number. After calling her, Dean told her, with a snarl and a promise, that he would tear her to pieces if Sam wasn’t in one piece when he found him. When she hung up on him without giving a response, Dean snapped the phone in two, a fiery look in his eyes that set the room on edge. They were in the Impala and back on the road before they knew it.

 

XxX

 

    ‘ _Sam?_ ’ Sam’s eyes snapped open. After a failed attempt at escaping and hours of torture, Sam didn’t expect to hear that voice so soon. He sat up from where he was slumped at the bottom of the stairs to whatever room he was locked in.

 

    ‘ _Gabe? Is that you?”_

 

 _‘Did she hurt you?’_ he asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to know the extent of the damage.

 

    ‘ _Nothing I couldn’t handle. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. You know, she drugged me to try and get information about hunters in America, doused me in cold water, took a blowtorch to my foot. I told her to go screw herself.’_ Sam felt a wave of anger through their link, but sent Gabriel some reassurance. ‘ _I’m fine, Gabriel. I just don’t know how much more she’s going to do.’_

 

 _‘When I find her, I’m going to make her_ **_suffer_ ** _. I’m going to kill her in the most painful way possible, then bring her back and kill her in a completely different, but just as painful, way,’_ Gabriel threatened. ‘ _We’ll find you, and when we do—_ ’ The link suddenly cut out with a jolt that had Sam flinching as pain bloomed in his side and his head. ‘ _Fucking Brits smashed into us!’_ was the last thought Gabriel sent him before their link went silent again. Sam hung his head. Gabriel was on his way, and there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do when he was that determined. Lady Bevill and her team seemed to be on him though, so his hopes of rescue at the moment were once again slim to none.

 

XxX

 

    “So, round two? Anyone?” asked a woman clad in black, smirking, Enochian brass knuckles gleaming in the sunlight. She’d decked Castiel, the angel spitting out blood on the ground, and disarmed Dean, who was looking at her in bewilderment.

 

    Gabriel was healing an unconscious Mary and a bleeding Adam. The kid did not deserve all the injuries that had come his way. Gabriel awoke Mary after healing some of her minor cuts and bruises, watching Dean and Castiel get their asses handed to them by some woman with an accent who’d hit them from the side. She picked up Dean’s pickpocketed pistol, aiming right for him.

 

    “You know,” she began, “I would’ve thought for two strapping lads like yourselves you would’ve lasted a tad longer.”

 

     With a growl, Gabriel stepped out of the car, intent on giving that woman a piece of his mind (and a taste of his archangel blade), but Mary got to her first.

 

    The woman shrugged nonchalantly. “Eh. You know what they say: Good things come to those—” Mary impaled her with Castiel’s dropped angel blade (and when had she gotten up?), the gun in the woman’s hand going off before she collapsed to the ground, dead. Dean and Castiel looked to the woman, then to Mary in gratitude.

 

    “Thanks, mom,” Dean told her, catching his breath as he sat up. Castiel nodded to her in agreement. She slowly lowered the blade, shocked at herself and the situation, offering Dean and Castiel hands to help them up. Gabriel walked over, healing Dean and Castiel after helping them roll the woman’s vehicle out of sight. Mary took a seat in the Impala, staring at her hands, streaked with a little bit of blood. How had killing, hunting, caught back up with her so quickly since she’d been back? Adam looked to her in concern, but she told him she was fine.

 

    Dean found her staring at her hands again when he made his way back over to the Impala. “Found her cell phone in the car. The last call was made from an Aldrich, Missouri.” He crouched down in front of her so they were at eye level. “We’re guessing Sam’s probably around there.”

 

    “Good. That’s great,” Mary responded, still shaken.

 

    “You okay?” Dean asked. She shook her head with a smile.

 

    “No.” She sighed, head in her hands for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just… I spent my life running from this, from hunting, and I got out. I never wanted this for you and Sam.” Dean took a moment to contemplate her words, trying to come up with a response.

 

    “Mom, I-I get it. I do. If I had kids, I wouldn’t want them in this. But Sam and me? Saving people, hunting things, this is our life,” he told her adamantly. “I think that we make the world a better place. I know that we do.” She nodded in understanding, and he placed a comforting hand on her knee before getting up and taking his place in the driver’s seat. Castiel and Gabriel took their seats back while Adam and Mary were lost in thought, Dean’s words replaying in their heads as they made their way back to the bunker in silence.

 

XxX

 

    ‘ _Gabriel?_ ’ Sam asked through their link, coming to some time after their last talk.

 

    ‘ _Are you alright? What has she done to you now?_ ’ came the worried response.

 

    ‘ _She injected me with some sort of spell powered hallucinogen. She was really surprised when she couldn’t get anything out of me. It was supposed to be the two of us having sex while she interrogated me—_ ’ Sam felt a wave of anger come through, and Gabriel was surprised to feel a sensation like laughter in return. ‘ _Like I said, I wasn’t interested, and that frustrated her. So, she grabbed a few knives, looked through a tray of tools for something else, and started carving into my chest._ ’

 

    ‘… _Do you think she realizes she’s never going to break you, or is she just that stupid?_ ’ Another sensation of laughter came from Sam.

 

    ‘ _What, no death threats, no, ‘I’m going to make her suffer for an eternity until she’s begging to die?’’_

 

    ‘ _I’ll save the rest of that for when I meet her in person. We think you’re in Aldrich, Missouri. Do you have any idea where you are?_ ’

 

    ‘ _A cellar, or a basement. I wasn’t awake when she chained me in here._ ’

 

    ‘ _We’re coming for you, Sam._ **_Bolape micaelazodo_ ** _.’ Be strong,_ Sam registered.

 

    ‘ **_Pa-id_ ** _,’_ he replied. _Always._ With that, they closed the link, and Sam watched Lady Bevill come down the stairs with a smile.

 

    “Good morning, Sam. Ready to begin again?” she asked him. Sam just glared defiantly, replying the same way he always did.

 

    “Screw you.”

 

XxX

 

    “This it?” Gabriel asked Castiel the next day as he strolled up to his brother, looking at the quaint farmhouse he’d found. They’d agreed to split up and search the city for any abandoned or recently bought/rented properties. Castiel’s search had led him here.

 

    “Yes, but it’s covered in warding and I can’t quite locate it all. It’s been cloaked.” Gabriel squinted, then reached out with his grace and, sure enough, there was a fair bit of warding around the whole house. The sigils and symbols he could see, barely, were some he hadn’t seen in quite some time. Those Brits weren’t playing around.

 

    “Call Dean and tell him we found the place. I’ll look around some more, see if I can’t figure out how to get through some of the warding.” Castiel nodded, pulling out his phone.

 

    Meanwhile, Mary, Dean, and Adam were staying in the first halfway decent motel they could find in town, Dean typing away on his laptop, Mary just out of the shower, and Adam sitting, unusually quiet, on one of the beds, lost in thought. Dean sighed, clenching his hands into fists.

 

    “Surveillance isn’t showing anything from today or yesterday,” he stated aloud. ‘ _Please tell me Cas and Gabriel have found something,_ ’ he thought to himself just as his phone rang, the caller I.D. turning out to be just the angel he was thinking about. “Hey, Cas. What’ve you got?” Mary sat down next to Adam as Dean talked over the phone, asking the blonde if he was alright. He nodded, not meeting her eyes.

 

    “It’s still… strange, being back in control of my body after… Everything that’s happened. And now, I’m on the road with you and Dean like it’s any other day and I’m just one of the boys… And now they have you back, and I just… Feel like the odd one out, you know?” Mary laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and he looked to her.

 

    “You’re their brother, Adam. From what Dean’s told me, he and Sam would do anything for you. You’re their family, which means you’re mine too.” He nodded again, not responding. “And I know I’m not your mom… But I’m here, if you need me.” That was when Mary caught snippets of Dean and Castiel’s conversation, hearing her name come up before the conversation wrapped.

 

    “Okay, got it. I’m on my way.” Mary stood, as did Adam, grabbing her jacket, much to Dean’s dismay. “Uh… Why don’t I, uh, take this one solo, guys? You know, we don’t exactly know what we’re walking into, and—

 

    “We never do. We’re hunters.” Dean opened then closed his mouth, trying to figure out how to respond to her comment.

 

    “Okay. I—I can’t do my job if I’m worried about you,” he told her bluntly.

 

    “You won’t have to be. I can handle myself… Okay? Alright, good talk.” Before Dean could respond, she was out the door.

 

    “Oh boy,” he mumbled to himself. Adam began heading for the door as well, but Dean tried to shut him down. “Nuh-uh. Where do you think you’re going? You’re staying here.”

 

    “Are you kidding? Sam’s my brother too, Dean, and I’m going with you.”

 

    “ **No** , you’re not. I can’t worry about you and mom at the same time!”

 

    “I may not be a hunter, but I’m not defenseless. I’m more useful in a fight than you think. I can help,” Adam protested.

 

    “Oh, really? And how’s that?”

 

    “Living with an archangel in your head for a few hundred years teaches you things.” Dean stopped himself before he could make a remark before observing Adam. He was just as stubborn as they were. Adam wasn’t about to change his mind, and he realized this with another sigh.      

 

    “Fine,” he told him begrudgingly, making sure he had his keys and his pistol before following his brother out the door. The drive there was silent, with Dean constantly thinking to himself that bringing the both of them with him was a bad idea. He parked the Impala a few feet from where Gabriel and Castiel were, and the three of them got out. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Dean told the two as the three of them approached Castiel. After brief greetings, the angel filled them in.

 

“There’s no way to know if anyone is inside, but it was rented two weeks ago, and someone had to have warded the house. Gabriel is examining what he can of the warding. It’s heavy and it’s cloaked, stronger than I’ve seen in a while.” Dean went to look around, but stopped when Mary tried to follow.

 

    “Mom, I got this.”

 

    “You can keep me from driving, Dean, not from hunting.” He looked to Castiel for an assist, and the angel took pity on him, making his way to Mary’s side.

 

    “I’m locked out by the warding. I could use the company.”

 

    “At least let me come with you. If we find any warding, I might be able to help you take it down. Besides, if these people are as good as they think they are, I wouldn’t expect the area outside the house to be completely safe,” Adam insisted. Mary looked to Adam, then to Dean. If she couldn’t look after him, at least Adam could. Dean closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten, letting it out slowly.

 

    “Alright, come on then.” The two scouted out the house’s exterior, looking for other entrances, keeping their eyes out for warding.

 

    A loud thumping noise drew them to a cellar door that Dean was reaching for just as Gabriel yelled tiredly, “Stop, Dean!” He yanked on the handles to find the doors locked while looking to Gabriel. Adam paled, looking down at Dean’s feet before briefly meeting Gabriel’s eyes.

 

    “Dude, it’s just a door, and it’s locked.”

 

    “Dean? …Look down,” Adam requested. Dean turned to him, then looked to his feet where a now glowing symbol had him unable to move them.

 

    “Son of a bitch,” he griped with a scowl. How could he be so careless? With a flash of light he was gone, and Gabriel slowly facepalmed while Adam looked on in alarm.

 

   “Leave it to Dean to make things more complicated than they need to be,” the archangel sighed. “Did you two find anything?”

 

    “No. That trap was the first sign of any sigil work I’ve seen,” Adam replied.

 

    “What I could find while looking around is going to make it impossible for me or Cassie to get in unless we can deactivate it. I _might_ be able to, but it would take time, and Sam and Dean need us.” Gabriel was starting to look genuinely worried that there was nothing he could do here, but Adam looked strangely confident.

 

    “Then let me go after them. I’m immune to the warding, and I can—

 

    “You and Michael have **one** conversation and suddenly you think you’re invincible, kid? Seriously?”

 

    “No, I don’t, and I’m not, but can I scout out the inside and maybe break through some of the warding. I am _not_ going to sit out here and wait for someone to come up with a rescue plan when I could go in there and do something about this!” Gabriel looked at Adam, _really_ looked at him, for a moment, his thoughts, his soul, his emotions. There was no denying he was a Winchester. At all. He sighed dramatically.

 

    “ _Fine_. You remember how you communicated with Michael?” Adam nodded. “If you need anything or you see anything, shoot a thought my way, you hear me?” Gabriel returned to Castiel and Mary’s side while Adam managed to enter the house through a warded, but thankfully not trap rigged, door. It was eerily quiet, and he hated the sound of his footsteps echoing faintly through the hallway. A bit of exploring later and he was ready to turn around and tell the others that he hadn’t found anything, until he came across a slightly ajar door leading downstairs.

 

    ‘ _Gabriel?_ ’ Adam projected to the angel. ‘ _I think I found them._ ’

 

    ‘ _Stay put, kiddo. Be right there,_ ’ came the response. Gabriel let out a breath, turning to Castiel and Mary.

 

    “I’m not really getting anywhere with the rest of the warding, but Adam says he found Thing One and Two, so that’s a start.”

 

    “Well, then we have to go in there and rescue them,” Mary told him adamantly.

 

    “Gabriel and I are locked out of the house by the warding,” Castiel reminded her. She looked to Gabriel, a smirk growing on his now no longer worried face.

 

    “What is it, Gabriel?” Castiel asked suspiciously. He turned to Castiel, a full blown smirk on his face.

 

    “Remember when the three of you thought I was just a trickster, little bro?” he asked Castiel, who nodded in confusion.

 

    “Yes, but I don’t see what that—” He cut himself off when he saw Gabriel’s eyes flash emerald, pagan magic flaring to life. “Your pagan magic,” he realized in surprise.

 

    “Yup. Haven’t used it in a while, but it should be able to walk right past that warding. Besides, the less enemies who know who I really am, the better.”

 

    “And why’s that?” Mary questioned, curious. Gabriel made a face.

 

    “Well, aside from you, the rest of Team Save the World, and Michael, the world thinks I’m dead. Angels, demons, every monster under the sun, has no idea I’m back, and I’d like it to stay that way. I’m, uh, not exactly in anyone’s good graces, let’s just say.” Falling silent, he closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment before opening them again, finding a replica of himself standing across from him. With barely a thought, he sent it into the house through the front door, checking for any traps or spells that might harm them should they come inside that adam had missed. After dismantling a nasty piece of spellwork, he found Adam, waiting impatiently by the ajar door. Back outside, he said to Mary, “I cleared some protections I saw inside the first few rooms. Head towards the back of the house.” She nodded to him and, after trading a look with Castiel, headed inside with a pistol held firmly in her hands, determined.

 

    Listening closely, Gabriel heard the words, “… parts of the body most sensitive to intense pain. The eardrum… decaying tooth, below the belt, of course, and my favorite… under the eyelid.” He growled lowly, eyes flashing, as Mary too heard those words, already on her way silently down the stairs before the sentence was even finished. Gabriel and Adam were right behind her. No one was keeping him from his hunter, and whoever was here was about to feel. His. **_Wrath._ ** And Mary’s, of course.

 

    Cocking her pistol with a glare, Mary demanded, “Get away from my boys.” Lady Bevell and Sam were both shocked, wide eyed and staring at the woman who should be dead before them, while Dean looked on with a shit eating grin.

 

    “Mom?” Sam asked, incredulous.

 

    “Yeah,” Dean confirmed quite proudly, to which Sam responded with a bewildered look. After Mary had her drop the weapon, she tossed the keys to the shackles at Dean, forcing Lady Bevill to the ground. She went to catch Mary off guard with an attack, maybe even a spell, but another unfamiliar figure came into view and stopped her in her tracks. Gabriel strode in with his arms crossed, a sucker in his mouth, looking ready to burn the whole house to the ground if she tried anything. She also noticed Adam following behind him, frowning at how outnumbered she now was.

    “Adam, was it?” she asked the youngest brother, who scowled in her direction. Her eyes fell back on Gabriel. “And who might you be?” she asked cautiously. Sam was still too stunned to speak, and Dean was too busy grinning to. Thank Chuck for small favors, because Gabriel **really** didn’t need anyone blowing his cover. Gabriel quirked an eyebrow, an unreadable look in his eyes, before extracting the sucker from his mouth with an icy smirk.

 

    “The name’s Loki.” He took a few steps forward until he was just a few inches from her face. His eyes glowed emerald with magic and his smirk morphed into a scowl as he growled, “And you’re going to **_pay_ **.” He looked to Sam and Dean, both now on their feet and free of their chains. “Alright there, boys?” He received nods in response.

 

    “Why does a pagan god hold such an interest in the wellbeing of a few American hunters?” Lady Bevill inquired. “Surely having them out of the way would be doing you a favor.”

 

    “Well, when the the world’s ending and the Winchesters need allies, they find whoever they can get. I helped them out once upon a time and they’ve helped me a time or two. I owe them a few favors.” His eyes fell on Sam, flooding with relief that the damage wasn’t too bad. She followed his gaze to Sam. “Especially that one.” She looked back to him. “The real question is why would the British Men of Letters send you to torture information out of those two? Last I checked torture, doom, and gloom wasn’t really you Brits’ style.”

 

    “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she answered evenly.

 

    “Desperate times for who exactly?” She huffed quietly under her breath.

 

    “We’re tired of watching the world almost end because of a few irresponsible American hunters playing with things they don’t understand. First it was the Apocalypse, then a case of Leviathans, and now the sun. They’ve had too many close calls for my superiors to leave them be any longer.”

 

    “What, and you think you people can do any better?” Dean questioned. Lady Bevill gave him a, “Really?” look.

 

    “Well of course we can, and we do.” Gabriel suddenly looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, then back to Lady Bevill with a raised eyebrow. With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared before descending down the stairs behind Castiel and a stranger. Lady Bevill tensed, they noticed, as the man entered the room.

 

    “Well played,” he told them as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Let me apologize for my colleague. Our orders were to talk with you, not,” he gestured around the room, “Kidnap and torture… I’m Mick Davies, British Men of Letters, and I’d like to extend an olive branch. We want to work with you, seeing as how you American hunters are at least partially carrying on the Men of Letters’ work.” Lady Bevill looked between him and the Winchesters, cornered.

 

    “Oh, you wanna play peacemaker now?” Dean asked. “Is that why you sicced your attack dog on us?”

 

    “Yeah, and let me ask you something, um, Mick, was it?” Sam began. “Why would we believe anything you have to say?” Mick gave a half smile, letting out a breath.

 

    “Let me deeply apologize, again. No excuses, Lady Bevill went too far.” He sent an unimpressed look her way and she glared back. “As for how you can believe me, if I wanted you dead there are about a dozen ways I could’ve come in here, instead of being unarmed.” He showed his empty jacket and pockets. “Not to mention, **I** powered down all the warding in this shack so your attack dogs could come in.” He looked to Castiel and Gabriel. “I reckon either one of you could finish me off without breaking a sweat, am I right?”

 

    “Without even a thought,” Gabriel answered lowly, threateningly. Mick absorbed the threat with a gulp, pulling a card out of his other jacket pocket.

 

    “My number,” he told Castiel, who hesitantly took the card. “Take the time to cool down and just think it over. And what’ve you got to lose? …Except your worst nightmares.” He gestured Lady Bevill over and as she went to join his side, Gabriel stepped out from behind him with an eyebrow raised.

 

    “Um, where do you think you’re going with her?” Gabriel demanded to know. She looked to Gabriel, wide eyed. Mick addressed Gabriel less confidently than he would have liked.

 

    “We have a code we adhere by. She’ll face consequences in London,” he replied. Dean huffed out a laugh.

 

    “Or how about you walk out that door and she’ll face consequences right here, right now?” he asked with a scowl.

 

    “Sorry, mate. I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Dean looked to Sam, then to Gabriel. Gabriel sighed, an icy grin on his face as he turned to the boys.

 

    “Would you like to do the honors, gentlemen, or should I?” Sam and Dean looked at each other before shrugging. “Mary?” She considered it, going over to Lady Bevill and looking her directly in the eyes with all the anger she could muster, before throwing a punch that drew plenty of blood. Lady Bevill stumbled backwards from the force of the hit, clutching her nose with a grunt of pain.

 

    “She’s all yours.” He looked to Adam, who spat in her face. Gabriel couldn’t contain a short laugh.

 

    “Well then.” He closed his eyes, hand held out towards her, concentrating. Sam felt Gabriel’s presence in his mind, but thought nothing of it. It wasn’t until he felt him sifting through and removing some memories that he got a little concerned, but he didn’t act on it. Gabriel had some pretty crazy ideas sometimes, but Sam knew he knew what he was doing. It was then that Lady Bevill’s breathing accelerated and she fell to her knees, hands clutching at her head. Gabriel was sick of it. He’s lost countless brothers and sisters, almost lost his father, and now, he’d almost lost Sam, all because of some accent in a pantsuit. She thought she knew torture? Well, she didn’t know it like this. He ripped every one of Sam’s memories of the Cage he could find out of his head, ingraining them in hers instead. As she screamed, he made sure she felt everything that Sam had, every single second of agony, and when she had, he opened his eyes, glowing bright electric blue, making sure she knew **exactly** who she was dealing with. As Mick went to intervene, Gabriel froze him in place, and, when he was finally done and she was a babbling, incoherent mess, he snapped his fingers.

 

    She exploded into a mess of blood and guts, drenching Mick and Castiel, who simply cleaned the mess off himself with a bit of grace. Mick was shaking violently, staring at Gabriel in terror. “We’ll call. _Maybe_ ,” Gabriel told him. He gestured towards the door and Mary, Castiel, Adam, and the boys followed him up, leaving Mick standing alone, absolutely terrified.

 

XxX

 

    Dinner was lighthearted, if a bit awkward with the memory of leaving Missouri still fresh in everyone’s mind. Sam and Gabriel shared a tender moment, back in each other’s arms, safe. Dean and Castiel were inseparable while Mary and Adam both ended up feeling a bit out of sorts. It wasn’t until she’d put the pie on the table that she called Sam out on his intense staring. He looked away, embarrassed. Mary watched wide eyed as Dean devoured the dessert before him, Sam covering his face with an exasperated smile, Gabriel staring at the rest of the pie tin with a challenging look in his eyes, Castiel laughing fondly, Adam looking on amused. As dinner winded down, Sam and Dean insisted on getting the dishes, telling Mary to go ahead and pick a room while they cleaned up in the kitchen. They expressed the same sentiment to Adam.

 

    Castiel helped the boys wash and dry while Gabriel snapped the dried plates into neat stacks, although a bit tiredly. When the dishes were done and the kitchen was cleaned up, Castiel and Dean headed for their room while Sam made a cup of tea for Mary. Gabriel noticed the mix of emotions in Sam’s eyes, the slight tenseness in shoulders. He fixed Sam with a worried stare. “Something’s bothering you,” he stated. Sam sighed, setting the hot cup on the table.

 

    “I just… I have a lot on my mind,” Sam replied. “Mom—Mom’s…” He huffed out a soft laugh. “I got my mom back, Gabriel. The mom I never got to know, who died because of me, who didn’t want her boys to grow up as hunters, who loved her family beyond words, is alive. I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet.” Gabriel gave him a small smile as he continued. “We’ve got Adam back, and Dean and I have a second chance to be the big brothers he deserves, to give him a better life. The world isn’t ending anymore, Dean’s alive, you and Cas are here… The… British Men of Letters want to team up.” He made a few all over the place hand gestures. “I’m just trying to process everything is all.” He took a deep breath, picking up the cup of tea. “I’m going to go take this to mom,” he told his soulmate. Gabriel nodded, watching him leave the room. With a flap of wings he was sat atop Sam’s bed. He let himself fall onto his back, arms tucked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

 

    Sam knocked on Mary’s door, cup of tea in hand, his dad’s journal tucked under his arm. He’d been looking through it late one night before the Amara situation had been resolved, grabbing it before heading for Mary’s room. It still felt surreal to Sam, to have his mother sitting not three feet away from him, alive and well. She accepted the cup of tea gratefully, and explained to Sam how she’d missed so much of his and Dean’s lives, how she had so much catching up to do, so many blanks to fill. That’s when he handed her the journal, telling her, “It helped me fill in some blanks, answer questions I didn’t even know I had. And, you know, i-i-it keeps him with us, sort of.”

 

    He turned to leave, but she commented, “Dean said you got out of hunting, and yet here you are.” He shrugged, a bit sad.

 

    “Well, this is my family. My family hunts, you know. It’s what we do.” She turned back to the journal with a nod, thinking over his answer. “Mom?” he asked, getting her attention back. “For me, having you here…” He paused, eyes watering, trying to speak clearly. “Fills in the biggest blank.” She had a teary eyed look of her own now, embracing him lovingly. Sam leaned down to return it, clinging to her a bit, feeling as if some missing piece of him had been returned. After a few tender moments they separated and bid each other goodnight, Sam taking a deep breath before heading to a room a few doors down, knocking softly.

 

    “It’s open,” Adam called from within. Sam slowly opened the door, seeing Adam laying on his back, staring at the ceiling with an unreadable expression on his face. Sam watched him sit up with a sigh and went to sit next to him, concerned.

 

    “You alright?” Adam shook his head, not meeting his eyes.

 

    “No.” He scoffed at himself. “For the first time in seven years, I have control of my life, and…” He shrugged. “My mom’s gone, I’m not serving Michael, my old life is over. I just feel like… I don’t belong here, like I’m just a burden on you, Dean, and Castiel.”

 

    “No,” Sam told him adamantly. “Adam, you’re our brother. You’re family. You could never be a burden to us. Never.”

 

    “You say that now,” he told Sam, voice a bit unsteady. “You have everything you could ever want, Sam. You have a brother and a friend who will always be there for you, a boyfriend more powerful than almost anything out there, and now you’ve got your mom back. Everything’s going right for you guys, and I feel like I’m just here, taking up space, making things more complicated. I mean, what can I do? Sure, I have a few cool powers now, but I don’t know the first thing about hunting or the life you guys live. Now there are other hunters who know who we are, where we are, and…” Sam sighed, laying a hand on his shoulder.

 

    “You’re right. I do have everything I could ever ask for… But I’ve got you now, too. Adam… Being a hunter… It’s not as glorious as it seems. I mean the last time we really talked to you about it, you didn’t want anything to do with me and Dean—

 

    “But then you came for me,” he reminded him. “And I don’t want anyone to end up like me, captured by some monster in the dark, no one to find my body but hunters, if they’re lucky enough to be working the right case.” He shook his head. “No, I want to learn how to hunt. I want to help you and Dean and Castiel and Gabriel and Mary make a difference out there. We’re Winchesters. We hunt, right?” Sam gave a short laugh.

 

    “Yeah. We do… Besides, me and Dean made a promise. When you got out of Hell, we were going to be the big brothers you deserved and we would do whatever it takes to protect you.” Adam finally looked him in the eye with sincerity.

 

    “Thank you for giving me a chance,” Adam told him. Sam smiled.

 

    “Try to get some sleep, okay?” Adam nodded as Sam got up, the two exchanging goodnights as Sam closed the door on his way out. He was ready to collapse into bed when he got to his room, but paused when he saw Gabriel on his bed, staring into space, lost in thought. The archangel looked up at the sound of the door opening, beckoning Sam over. Sam laid down beside Gabriel, who wrapped his arms around him in an instant, burying his face in Sam’s chest. They laid together for a little while, calmed by each other’s even breaths, and though Gabriel could tell Sam was less stressed than earlier, something was still bothering. He pulled back a little to look at his soulmate.

 

    “What is it?”

 

    “What did you do to Lady Bevill, back in Missouri?” Gabriel didn’t answer for a moment. “I felt you digging through my head, and then she was screaming…” Gabriel took a deep breath, then let it out before responding.

 

    “I solved two problems at once. I served her justice and fixed your head. I told you I was going to make her suffer when I met her, and I did. I looked through her head, before I killed her, Sam. She’s done nothing her whole life but take what she wants through whatever means necessary. She wasn’t even following her stupid orders from the higher ups over in England. She would have tortured you and Dean until one of you gave her the information she needed. And **enjoyed it**. She thought she knew torture, so I decided to prove her wrong…” Sam thought he knew where this was leading, but pressed Gabriel to continue.

 

    “So what did you do?”

 

    “I… I went through your head, and I pulled out every Cage memory I could find. I didn’t expect it all to go so smoothly, but I’m glad it did. I don’t know if I got all of them, but if not, I got most of them, and those memories died with the British chick.”

 

    “You…” Sam marveled at the fact that that was even possible. Death himself could only erect a wall to keep the memories of the Cage from driving him mad, and yet… Gabriel had plucked the memories right out of his head like it was nothing.

 

    “I’ve seen your nightmares, Sam. I’ve watched you toss and turn and shout and plead in your sleep, and it broke my heart. And when I thought of what she was doing to you… It was a dark move, I know, and—

 

    “Thank you,” Sam told him quietly, interrupting him, pulling him closer. “Yeah, that is kind of dark, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but…”

 

    “You’re not…?” Gabriel was worried about how Sam would react to the explanation. This… Was not how he thought it would happen.

 

    “You were protecting me, and you’ve repaired the damage from years of the worst moments of my life. Did you think I would condemn you for that?” Gabriel let out a relieved breath. “Besides, if you’re a bad person for doing that to her, then I’m a bad person for enjoying watching you snap her out of existence.”

 

    “I never want to have to feel you get hurt like that again. I won’t let it happen.” Sam closed his eyes, making himself comfortable.

 

    “I know.”

 

    Meanwhile, Dean was currently telling Castiel about how Mary used to take him and baby Sam to the park a few minutes away from their home in Lawrence. He had a stack of childhood photographs scattered in front of him, one photo of him and Mary clutched in his hand. Castiel held him from behind, both men on their sides, an arm slung over Dean’s waist, smiling as Dean recounted his story. “And when it got late and we were heading home, she’d sing Sam to sleep, and when she put him to bed, she’d tuck me in and tell me angels were watching over me…” He let out a soft laugh. “Guess she was right.” It was a sweet story, Castiel thought, but he could tell something was up with Dean.

 

    “You seem… Conflicted,” Castiel commented. Dean shifted, turning to face Castiel.

 

    “Yeah, I am. I am over the moon that mom is back. I couldn’t be happier, but… So much has changed. I don’t want her to feel overwhelmed with everything, and I don’t want her to try and adjust too fast while we’ve got hunting and those British dicks to worry about,” Dean admitted. “Plus, me and Sam have twenty odd years to make up for with Adam, bringing him into this life…” He rested his head on Castiel’s shoulder. “I want to do things right with them, but you know how me and Sam’s luck gets…” Castiel pressed a soft kiss into Dean’s hair.

 

    “It won’t be easy, handling everything that’s going on, but I know that you and Sam are more than capable of doing so. Mary and Adam are strong people; they’ll be fine. Just take things slowly, Dean.” Dean hummed in response. “Gabriel and I will be here with the both of you every step of the way.”

 

    “Thanks, Cas,” he whispered, pulling his angel closer, returning the earlier kiss with one of his own. He closed his eyes, and Castiel pulled the sheets over them, Dean wrapped protectively in his arms as he drifted off to sleep.

  


Closing A/N: Ugh, man, so many characters in this chapter. This is more complicated than I thought it would be. I hope it didn’t read like I just threw everyone in there and said, “Plot! Characters! BA-BAM! Chapter!” I swear that’s how the first draft of this chapter went and I had half a mind to scrap it all as soon as I read it. Hopefully this version is a bit better. Next chapter, we’ll hear from Mick, Michael, Luci, and Crowley, and a few unnamed characters to keep in mind for future reference. See y’all then, and I hope I’m doing this sequel justice so far! :)


	2. Altered Perspectives

Chapter Two: Altered Perspectives

 

A/N: Not proof-read, per usual (I really need to break that habit). As the closing notes of last chapter said, this chapter focuses around Mick, Crowley, Lucifer, and Michael, since Luci isn’t vessel hopping, which throws Crowley off, and since Lady Bevell’s dead, which changes the tactics of Mick, Ketch, and the BMOL. Also, the angel war continues, which is why our archangel couple finds themselves in Heaven. Forewarning, the phrase “dying with dignity” was overused, because when Castiel told everyone the angels said that, it really pissed me off and still does. Also, I’m sorry that the chapter feels so short (at least to me). Next chapter, back to our boys and TFW. 

  
  


    Mick stood beside his car, shaking slightly, covered in blood and bits of flesh, trying to even out his breathing as he dialed Mr. Ketch. This development was proving to be quite a hindrance to their plans, and HQ in London would not like the news that Lady Bevell might have blown any chance they had of gaining the trust of the Winchesters. Ketch picked up on the third ring.

 

    “ _ I’m en route to America right now. Was there something else that needed to be discussed? ” _

 

    “Yes,” Mick replied, sounding more shaken than he wanted to. “Lady Bevell, she… She took matters into her own hands.”

 

    “ _ Didn’t I tell you she would go rogue? She was never the most morally straight member of the chapter, after all. _ ”

 

    “Well, you aren’t either,” Mick pointed out.

 

    “ _ Yes, well, it’s what makes me so efficient at my job. It’s why you called me before. _ ”

 

    “Yes, but sh-she’s dead, Ketch!” he exclaimed, a bit panicked. That gave the man on the other end of the line pause.

 

    “ _ Well, _ ” Ketch said after a moment, only a bit surprised, “ _ We  _ **_were_ ** _ taught that we were all expendable, were we not? If I may, how did she die? Painfully, I hope. _ ” 

 

    “There was a pagan god, a  **powerful** pagan god, with them, keeping their angel company while he scouted out Lady Bevell’s temporary safehouse.” At least, the being had said he was a pagan god, but… Mick had a feeling that wasn’t entirely true. Until he knew for sure though, he would keep his suspicions to himself.

 

    “ _ Pagan? Our intel has them all listed as deceased save one, and that goddess hasn’t been seen in nearly a decade, _ ” Ketch replied in surprise.  

 

    “I know, but apparently not. He was working with the Winchesters and didn’t take too kindly to Lady Bevell’s actions towards the boys. He… The screams were **terrifying** , and then…” Mick took a deep breath, then another.

 

    “ _ What exactly did he do to her? _ ”

 

    “I have no idea, but by the end of it she was speaking nonsense. And then he—” The image of Lady Bevell exploding before him made his stomach churn painfully. “He snapped his fingers and, well, I’m covered in what’s left of her.” Ketch made a noise that was halfway between a chuckle and a sigh.

 

    “ _ Did she do such unspeakable things that they were angry enough to kill her? _ ”

 

    “Had the pagan not, the Winchesters probably would have. Dean especially seemed eager; he reminds me a bit of you, to be honest.” Ketch scoffed at the last comment. 

 

    “ _ I suppose a change of plan is in order then? _ ”

 

    “If the rest of the American hunters are anything like them? Most definitely.”

 

    “ _ I suggest you report into HQ then. They’ll want to know about this… incident. I’ll do a bit of digging on American hunters and see if we can’t rethink our strategy. _ ” With that he hung up, and Mick went to put his phone back in his jacket when his hand found a particularly slimy piece of flesh. He grimaced with a wince, quickly brushing it off and storing his phone before shaking off his hand and getting into his car. He would  **not** enjoy writing up his report, if he could survive the drive back without vomiting to death.

 

XxX

 

    Crowley looked down on a pair of dead bodies, one with an angel blade sticking out of their chest and the other with empty, open eyes, face splashed with droplets of blood, both with a pair of wings burned into the ground under them. He then looked to the pair of demons standing a few feet away, gazing down at their feet, one of them nervously shaking. He wasn’t impressed.

 

    “You called me here, for this?” He gestured at the bodies with a scoff. “What do I care about a few angels with bad blood? I tasked you with finding Lucifer, any sign or trace of him. Humans with burned out eyes, biblical phenomena, you know.” He gave them a, “Well?” face when they finally looked at him.

 

    “W-We caught the end of their conversation, m-my lord,” one of them responded. “They were angels, and they were arguing about two sides of a, um, war… In Heaven.”  _ This _ piqued Crowley’s interest.

 

    “Oh?”

 

    “Yes!” the other confirmed a bit too enthusiastically. “The one with a blade in their chest spoke something about leaving a Host behind because they had honor, true honor, and a reason to fight. The other said something about killing traitors who were no better than humans, who were throwing their lives away for nothing.” Crowley considered the information. Angel infighting was none of his concern, but from the sounds of it, there would be no shortages of cases like this… 

 

    “Your task is still to find a lead on Lucifer, but…” He looked at the bodies again. “If you find anything else like this, bring it to my attention.”

 

    “Of course, my lord,” they replied in nervous unison, disappearing in the blink of an eye and leaving Crowley alone in the alleyway.

 

    “Well well. The infighting begins. I wonder how long until Heaven starts to collapse…” he thought to himself out loud. This journey hadn’t been a complete waste of time after all. He wondered if Lucifer was pulling the strings in this, turning his siblings against each other, watching gleefully from the shadows as they killed and slaughtered to uphold a sense of “honor” and “dignity”, until Heaven was his for the taking… He was even more determined to find the archangel now. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get the answer to his question when they met again.

 

XxX

 

    Lucifer winced and Michael groaned in pain, both holding their heads as Angel Radio erupted with outraged cries and accusations. The two had hardly had any time to themselves since Amara left, perhaps a day or so, before this occurred, flying around the world, taking long walks in different cities and towns, just enjoying each other’s company and taking in the scenery. Now, they had another problem to deal with, one they thought had been solved. 

 

    “I thought you stopped that petty excuse of a war when you first returned?” Lucifer asked after the voices of his many siblings fell silent.

 

    “So did I,” Michael replied, harrumphing when he caught the phrase “dying with dignity,” the last of the cries fading. “It seems they’ve found something new to fight about.”

 

    “So this whole second war is because some of our brothers and sisters decided they didn’t want to take a chance with Amara after the total disaster they’d just witnessed?” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “And because some of the others decided they wanted to help the Winchesters, they’re suddenly  _ traitors to the Host? _ Ridiculous.”

 

    “We’ve started wars over less,” Michael reminded him.

 

    “But the Prophecy wasn’t just a simple “Because I told you so” argument,” Lucifer argued. 

 

    “My point,” Michael continued, “Is that though the reason for the war may be nothing but a petty argument, it’s clearly gotten out of hand if the entirety of the Host is in an uproar.”

 

    “Does that mean we’re going back?” Lucifer questioned, dreading the very idea of having to sort out  **even more** family issues. “We just finished saving the world, what, almost two days ago? Can’t we catch a break?” Michael fixed him with a look.

 

    “You know it’s our duty to—

 

    “Yeah yeah. I  **know** ,” Lucifer stressed. “I just… Wanted to spend a little more time with my soulmate before everything fell apart again,” Lucifer remarked honestly. Michael sighed, hesitantly taking Lucifer’s hand. When he didn’t protest, Michael smiled slightly, gripping it firmly.

 

    “After the war, we can be together just like the old days,” he promised. “Afternoons on the cliffside.”

 

    “Flights through the stars,” Lucifer added fondly. 

 

    “Evening spars…”

 

    “ _ Other _ evening activities,” Lucifer added suggestively. Michael shook his head with an amused scoff, though he didn’t shoot down the idea either.  

 

    “ **After** we return to Heaven,” Michael emphasized. Lucifer sighed resignedly as the two of them spread their wings.

 

    “Alright. Let’s go then.” In the blink of an eye the two found themselves at the Gates of Heaven, but… “Traitors of the Host beware,” Lucifer read burned into the ground in front of the gates. “Whelp, this’ll be interesting.” Exchanging worried looks, the two stepped through the gates, fully prepared for a squadron to attack, but they were met with empty halls and closed soul room doors instead. There was no sign of usual activity anywhere, as if every angel had just up and disappeared. 

 

    “I don’t like this,” Michael told him, reaching out with his grace to sense his siblings. HQ was almost empty, and there was no one near the Garden or the soul rooms. Something wasn’t right here. He checked a few of the more frequented spots (certain conference and gathering rooms, the armory, the dungeons) until he came across the infirmary, where he came across a cluster of angels. “The infirmary.” Lucifer nodded, and the two made their way there at a brisk pace. 

 

    The sight that met them rendered them speechless, and it wasn’t until Lucifer let out a shocked, “Woah…” that Michael seemed to find his words. 

 

    “What in Father’s name?” Michael uttered, turning the heads of a few. Many of his siblings laid unconscious or dead in the overcrowded room. There were two angels currently healing either someone else or themself. One of them was Dmitri, who he didn’t necessarily like, but who he knew was a valuable asset to Heaven. Not only was he a seraph and a great warrior, but he had turned out to be a surprisingly strong healer. The other, who was closing up a huge gash in her side, was Ameliel, Heaven’s head healer and one of Michael’s closest companions. She looked drained and about to pass out. Michael quickly hurried to her side, moving her hand away from the wound and easily closing it himself.

 

    “Michael,” Dmitri greeted, head bowed in respect. His eyes fell on Lucifer and he paled, though not without a silent nod in greeting, before refocusing on the task at hand.

 

    “What has happened here?” Michael asked Ameliel, who gave him a half smile in thanks before getting slowly to her feet, going back to tending to patients. 

 

     “After you left again and the sun began dying, you know that Castiel came to visit.” He’d been out of the loop for a while, so this was news, but he nodded anyway. “He was asking for souls in a last attempt to get rid of the Darkness. At the time, panic and fear had spread throughout the Host, and most wanted to seal Heaven.” She mumbled something, annoyed, under her breath that Michael thought was, “Die with dignity.” She sighed. “Those that didn’t wanted to leave Heaven wanted to break away from the “cowards and the fools,” as they called them. They wanted to return to Earth and fight, despite knowing they’d lose. If there was any way to die with dignity, they said, it was to die in battle.”

 

    “And did they leave?”

 

    “After our Father was healed and the sun returned, yes. However…” She went silent, and Dmitri picked up where she left off.

 

    “Some squadrons decided that those that left were not worthy to return for daring to disobey the majority of the Host. They began hunting them down… Those that survived the encounters found themselves back here. The others… We sent out search parties and had their bodies brought back.” Michael closed his eyes, despair and anger at war inside him.

 

    “Were the two sides the same sides at war when I put a stop to the fighting?” he asked.

 

    “Yes. Those that still believed in Castiel chose to leave, while those that remained loyal to Heaven chose to hunt them down,” Ameliel confirmed. 

 

    “Our numbers?” he asked, dreading the answer.

 

    “Dwindling.” 

 

    “At last count?”

 

    “Less than 500.”

 

    “If that warning by the Gates was anything to go by, wouldn’t those angels just come back here and finish off whoever they were hunting down?” Lucifer asked her.

 

    “They’d said that they wouldn’t return until every last “traitor” was killed, until only loyalists remained in the Host. Many of our siblings went to blend in with the humans after a war on them was declared. Those that decided to fight for their ideals…” She gestured around her with a sad look. “They returned here. The very place that was meant to become their enemies’ stronghold has now become their sanctuary.” She shook her head. “I tried to stop them, to talk sense into them, but they wouldn’t hear me.”

 

    “You’re only one angel, Ameliel. One cannot change the minds of thousands—hundreds now.”

 

    “ **You** could,” Dmitri spoke up from across the room, looking up from his healing for a moment. “You stopped our last war with little more than a command, not at full strength, might I add. The Host would listen now without question, and they wouldn’t dare go against a direct order.”

 

    “And you don’t think some of them are too far gone?” Lucifer asked. “Think about it. This whole mess is because there are two different ideas of  _ dying with dignity _ —and I swear I will disintegrate the next person who says that phrase because that’s all I’ve heard since everyone started making such a big deal out of this mess,” he threatened with a brief scowl. “They’ll be too busy plotting to listen to anything Michael has to say.”

 

    “He’s not wrong,” Ameliel added. “I overheard one of the squadrons talking about seizing some huge title of power in the American government. That way, no matter where our brothers and sisters hide, they could hunt and kill without question and without anyone needing to know.” She scoffed then. “While also  _ ruling over the humans _ as a “bonus” of sorts.” She shot an expectant look at Lucifer. “I wonder who they remind me of?” she asked, half joking, half not. Lucifer looked taken aback at the accusation. 

 

    “You can ask Michael. I haven’t tried ruling over anyone or turning people against each other since I first came back to Heaven.” Michael and Ameliel looked to each other in a silent conversation, an understanding seeming to pass between them.

 

    “That’s not what she meant,” Michael stated slowly, realization dawning on him. “She means that you understand their mindset, that you could get close to them without seeming suspicious.”

 

    “They wouldn’t expect you to try and stop them,” Dmitri continued on. “They would expect you to join them, or help lead their cause if they were desperate enough.” Lucifer looked between the three of them with a grin slowly spreading across his face.

 

    “So… You want  **me** to play leader on Earth and do… What exactly?”

 

    “Use their own tactic against them. They want to hunt the rest of our siblings down. Hunt them down instead.” Lucifer turned his attention to Dmitri, frowning.

 

    “So now you’re on Team Free Will’s side? Last time I checked, you hated the Winchesters and Castiel more than anyone else.”

 

    “I’m on the side of Heaven,” Dmitri told him, trying to reign in his temper. “I’m on the side that doesn’t see the rest of us dying without a real reason. If that side happens to be the side that supports _ them _ , then fine.” Lucifer considered all the information he’d just been presented with.

 

    “Alright then!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together in excitement. If ending the war meant wreaking havoc on unsuspecting angels  **and** aggravating the Winchesters and Castiel, who was he to refuse? “Who do I get to possess?” he asked. Dmitri looked like he was very much regretting any involvement in the conversation as he, Lucifer, and Michael looked to Ameliel for a response. She sighed, wondering just how good of an idea this was and just how badly it was going to backfire on them all.

 

    “The President of the United States,” she answered.

 

XxX

 

    “What do you mean Lady Bevell is dead, Mr. Davies?” asked the grave older woman eyeing Mick’s current state of dress with distaste, her presence on the conference room screen no less intimidating than when she was there in person. “What the Devil happened?” 

 

    “A pagan god happened, Dr. Hess,” he answered. “Lady Bevell went too far and he took it upon himself to end her.” He gestured to himself. “I’m covered in what’s left of her, and I was just on my way to write up the report—

 

    “And there wasn’t a thing you could do to stop it?” she questioned testily. Mick shook his head.

 

    “I doubt anyone else would’ve walked away even if there was.” Dr. Hess sighed angrily. Lady Bevell had been a most valuable asset to the BMOL, and no one, save Mr. Ketch perhaps, had anything near her skillset in her areas of expertise. She took a calming breath.

 

    “I assume you had a plan in case something like this happened?”

 

    “O-Of course. Once Mr. Ketch arrives—

 

    “See that the situation is rectified and that this does not happen again,” she warned, not keeping the unspoken threat of “or else” out of her tone. Mick gulped, wishing he could disappear on the spot while under her glare.

 

    “Yes ma’am,” he told her, quickly leaving the room and heading off towards his own, the screen going blank as he did so. The first thing he needed to do was shower and hope that he wouldn’t have to pick anything out of his hair. The next thing was to burn the clothes he was currently wearing and set up a meeting with Ketch once he arrived in America. Unlocking his door and closing it behind him, he plucked a clean set of clothes from his dresser and a towel before heading to the shower. As he stood under the warm spray, watching the pink water at his feet swirl down the drain as he scrubbed his skin raw, he didn’t think his original strategy would have worked anyway.

 

    Talking to the hunters about a better world, a world without monsters seemed all fine and dandy, but he didn’t think pretty words and fun new toys to play with would convince them. He was clearly out of his element, as his experience in the field was almost non-existent and the hunters would clearly not be impressed, but Ketch… Ketch was their top field agent, and could work the deadliest case alone and return to HQ without so much as a scratch. There was no one better or more experienced. If  **he** came along during his meetings with the American hunters, then maybe they could convince a few. That’s if Ketch could be bothered to go with him. The two hadn’t worked closely on the same case in years, and things between them were strained at best. They had quite a bit of history together, and Mick would like to think they’d been friends once. They’d grown distant, however, as their paths diverged from one another, Ketch as a field agent and Mick as a researcher and intel collector. Everything between them seemed to be all business as of late, and Ketch wasn’t one to just sit down and talk.

 

    As he scrubbed shampoo gently through his hair, he wondered just how well the two of them would coexist, especially on a project as big and important as this. He sighed, washing the shampoo out of his hair and resting his head on the cool shower wall. He didn’t know why, but he had the feeling that things were not going to end well. Lady Bevell had already planted seeds of distrust in the Winchesters’ minds, the Winchesters had much more powerful allies than they anticipated, and he was already on thinning ice with Dr. Hess. Could things get any worse?

 

XxX

 

    Crowley smirked down at the injured angel his goons had, somehow, managed to restrain. He looked embarrassed and quite a bit terrified. This day just kept getting better and better. Making sure to keep just out of reach, he crouched down in front of them. “A little far from Heaven, don’t you think?” Crowley asked smugly. “Why is an angel like you working in the White House I wonder?”

 

    “I don’t answer to you, Crowley,” the angel growled, spitting in his face. Slowly wiping it off, Crowley huffed, unamused, before holding an angel blade to their throat. Crowley watched his eyes widen at the appearance of the weapon, shaking his head in despair, suddenly not so brave. “They’ll kill me. They’ll know what I’ve done and they’ll kill me!”

 

    “How?”

 

    “They just will. I haven’t been back in hours. They’ll know something’s happened if I go back there like this!” 

 

    “Is that so?” He pressed the blade just a bit harder into his neck, watching blood begin to trickle from the small cut, a dull glow of grace beginning to become visible. “Then what’s there to stop  **me** from killing you?” 

 

    “Information. You want to know what us angels are up to, right?” Crowley looked at him intently, contemplating his answer.

 

    “What can you tell me?” 

 

    “We want control of the White House. With their resources, we’d be able to do anything we wanted, track down anyone we wanted, send people out to kill anyone we wanted, and no one would be the wiser. No foolish humans would get caught in the crossfire and the Host would be purged of every traitor who looked to throw their lives away when the Darkness was here.” Crowley raised an eyebrow.

 

    “Traitors, huh?” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “You lot are no better than demons, with your petty squabbles and half thought out plans. Did you think no one would notice that angels have been involved in the American government? If  **I’ve** noticed surely the Winchesters and the rest of the hunters out there have.”

 

    “Then they’ll be too late to stop us,” the angel insisted in a last show of confidence. Crowley gave him an unimpressed look before standing back up and waving his hand. The two demons currently with them hauled the injured angel to his feet. “Wait, where are you taking me? Let me go!”

 

    “What would you like us to do with him, my lord.” Crowley seemed to consider his answer. 

 

    “I don’t care,” he finally replied, and the angel paled, panicked yells cut off as the three of them disappeared. Crowley turned his attention to the White House, just visible a mile or so away. So, the angels planned on taking the White House to hunt down other angels caught in their blood feud… It was a very good day indeed. But the question still remained. Where was Lucifer in all this, and how much of a threat did he still pose?   

 

XxX

 

    The shadowy figure watched the Winchesters and co. entering the bunker after a food run. He observed all six of them, five of which he recognized and one that he didn’t. One of the five in particular, however, caught his eye, and he couldn’t help the devious grin that appeared on his face. He’d sensed the use of pagan magic and immediately knew who had used it. Gabriel and Castiel were grabbing groceries out of the back seat of the Impala when another shadowy figure appeared beside the first.

 

    “Which one?” he asked simply. 

 

    “The short one, an archangel,” replied the first. The second figure eyed Gabriel with interest and almost manic enthusiasm, letting out a chuckle as his thoughts ran wild with possibilities. 

 

    “Well, I think I’m going to enjoy this little partnership of ours.” A gust blew threw the area and they disappeared in the blink of an eye. As the bunker door shut behind him, Gabriel couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine, swearing he’d heard an echo of maniacal laughter in the wind.

  
  


Closing A/N: A semi-fast update! Whoa! I’m impressed with myself. I have a pretty good idea where my subplots are going; it’s just starting them that’s giving me some issues, as you can see in this chapter. Hopefully the next update is a bit longer. Also, it occurred to me to read last chapter’s closing notes, and I remember mentioning something about unnamed characters. I totally almost forgot about that, so sorry about the awkward ending. Next chapter, our boys and Mary bond and hunt together, we learn a little more about Adam’s unusual powers, and… Yeah.


	3. Family

Chapter Three: Family 

 

A/N: We’re back with Team Free Will with this chapter, and several things will be addressed as we get some Winchester family/TFW bonding time and a conflicted Gabriel. Also, I might stretch the timeline a bit since I’m replacing some of s12’s subplots with my own. So… Let’s have this chapter take place a week-ish after the end of episode 2 in Missouri. Enjoy!

  
  


    “Wait wait wait. So… The Darkness and God just left? She healed Him, brought me back, and then they left?” Mary asked as the boys finished catching her up on the past eleven years of their lives. 

 

    “Pretty much. Chuck said Earth would be okay so long as me and Sam were around—” Gabriel scoffed, drawing an annoyed look from Dean before he continued. “—And I ended up wandering around trying to figure out where I was. Eventually, I found you in the park, and you know the rest.” Mary let out a huge breath, head in her hands, leaning on her elbows as they all sat gathered around the war room table. 

 

    The past week or so had consisted of a few grocery runs, drinking games, a bit of cruising around other towns, and everyone taking turns explaining different points in time to Mary, who readily accepted the huge amount of information. She took it all in stride, even if she wasn’t quite happy or okay with everything her boys or their companions had done or suffered through. There were, however, several positives in her boys’ lives, a few of which sat around the table with them at the moment. Mary observed Castiel sitting right next to Dean, the two looking as comfortable as can be, Dean occasionally sending loving glances Castiel’s way. Gabriel had sat himself upon Sam’s lap, to an affectionate eye roll and smile, refusing to grab his own seat unless Sam asked him to move, which Sam had no desire to do. Adam sat next to her, watching his brothers with an amused look on his face, slowly getting used to life in the bunker as well. 

 

    “And what about Castiel and Gabriel?” she asked the boys, who both blushed as they looked to their respective soulmates. “How did you two end up with them?”

 

    Castiel and Dean each took turns explaining all the events that led to the realization of their feelings for one another. They’d been through everything together, had been mortal enemies and the best of friends. They would do, and had done, anything for each other, and it was clear that their story together was far from over from that first meeting in the warded barn to that night after the vampire case, the night of Gabriel’s return—Which prompted the aforementioned archangel to pick up where the other two had left off. Though their relationship had been rather sudden and out of nowhere, like with their soulmates revelation, the two couldn’t deny that the events of their shared past had always weighed on their minds. There was just something about the other that they couldn’t stop thinking about, something that rooted itself into their hearts until the night they met again. From there, those somethings were brought to the surface, and the two took the chance they hadn’t had in the past.

 

    “And Adam?” she asked the youngest brother. He looked startled that she addressed him, but began telling his story, from his seemingly normal childhood to his untimely death and resurrection, followed by brief snippets of his time in Hell whilst being shielded by Michael before escaping with Gabriel to fight the war against the Darkness. They all, save Gabriel, ended up asking him questions, about when he was brought back, his time in the Cage, and his time as Michael’s vessel.

 

    “And your powers?” Castiel finally asked, prompting heads to turn quickly in his direction.

 

    “Powers? What powers?” Dean questioned, mind flashing briefly back to Sam’s demon and angel exorcising days. Sam and Mary looked equally confused, but Gabriel looked at Adam expectantly.

 

    “I’m still trying to understand it all, but, the gist of what Michael told me is that because I am one of his true vessels and he spent so long possessing me… I have a part of his grace.” The Winchesters’ eyes were blown wide as he demonstrated what he could, nothing overly complex, but still impressive nonetheless. “It’s only enough to match that of a low level angel’s, but it’s powerful, and it’s come in handy.” He summoned Michael’s archangel blade, a bright white twisted blade, handle fading into gold and silver, glowing runes etched into the surface visible to Castiel and Gabriel. Adam truly didn’t know the extent of his powers, but Gabriel assured him that with a bit of practice he would be able to do anything he could think of. Adam looked like he was about to say more, but it was then that Sam’s phone went off, ending the conversation as he read the message.

 

    “ ‘ _ Got a case for you boys. We’ve got a sighting of angels fighting each other. Don’t know what it was about, but it apparently didn’t end well. Luckily, no one was hurt and eyewitnesses ran before they could see too much. Figured you might want a distraction after the whole end of the world you just prevented. Go save some people!’ -Donna” _ Sam, Dean, and Castiel exchanged pleasantly surprised looks.

 

    “Hunter friend we met a few years back,” Dean explained. A second text gave the location, and Castiel and Gabriel decided to take the case. They checked their weapons as they prepared to take off and soon said their farewells, Dean warning Castiel to be careful and Sam expressing the same to Gabriel, who assured him that he would be fine. With that, Castiel and Gabriel headed out of the bunker and disappeared with a flap of wings.

 

XxX

 

    “What in Dad’s name?!” Gabriel questioned in alarm as the two of them appeared at the texted location, the sight of several dead angels greeting them. He dropped down beside one of his felled siblings, examining them with a shocked expression.

 

    “Then what we heard on angel radio is true. Heaven  **is** at war again…” Castiel looked on in despair. The sudden presence of another had them on the defensive in an instant, until recognition flooded their faces. They glared at the demon before them, who chuckled.

 

    “My my. It seems I’m not the only one who’s noticed the angel war. Sad that you’re missing out on the fun?”

 

    “What do you want, Crowley?” Castiel asked, eyes narrowed.

 

    “And how do you know about this?” Gabriel stood after asking his question, archangel blade within his reach should he need it. Crowley smirked smugly.

 

    “Let’s just say that I came across an angel with loose lips and leave it at that.” 

 

_ “What do you want?” _ Castiel emphasized. 

 

    “The same thing you do: answers. I want to know why angels are suddenly at each other’s throats when not too long ago they were all more than happy to team up against Amara.” He looked to the two, expecting an answer.

 

    “And just why would we help you?” Crowley rolled his eyes.

 

    “Because I know something you don’t. I know where the group of angels that did this are, and what they’re up to.” Castiel looked surprised, but Gabriel wasn’t having any of it.

 

    “Not interested,” he told him, making Crowley scowl.

 

    “You haven’t even heard my proposal yet,” he protested.

 

    “You’re lying,” Gabriel responded. “You already know why. You just want to see how much  **we** know.” Crowley attempted to stand his ground as Gabriel approached him menacingly, grace flaring, wings quivering folded against his back. “What are you after?”

 

    “That… Is none of your concern,” he replied carefully.

 

    “When it’s about my family, it most definitely  **is** my concern.”

 

    “I’m looking for Lucifer,” Crowley acquiesced after a moment, not wanting to piss off yet  **another** archangel. “I have a bone to pick with him, and I thought that if anyone would enjoy stirring up this kind of trouble between angels it must be him.”

 

    “My brother can be messed up sometimes, but he’d never want this. Besides, this war started while he was still in the Cage; there’s no way he’s responsible.” 

 

    “If he can communicate with Sam Winchester whilst  **inside** the Cage, what makes you think he couldn’t have influenced others?”

 

    “I know him, and I know he wouldn’t no matter how bad of a place he’s in. Even out of the Cage he wouldn’t have, not when Michael’s back at his side. I trust him.” Castiel cast Gabriel a curious look, having almost forgotten how close the two brothers were. There was a strange glint in Crowley’s eyes as he absorbed the information. 

 

    “There are angels who have infiltrated the White House, vying for a shot at possessing the President. With presidential powers they can hunt down whoever they want, whenever and however they want, and no one would be the wiser. Problem is, no one can get close enough to him to ask consent for possession.”

 

    “Why are you telling us all this?” A smirk was back on Crowley’s face at Castiel’s question.

 

    “You just gave me useful information, and I’m a demon of my word. It’s only fair that I returned the favor.” With that he was gone, and the two were left wondering just what “useful” information they’d given him.

 

XxX

 

    “Okay, so you hold it like this,” Dean told Adam, helping him adjust his grip on his pistol. If they were going to introduce Adam to the life, he needed to know how to defend himself with something other than an angel blade. Deciding to take a little family trip, the boys and Mary drove until they found themselves at an abandoned cabin surrounded by trees and foliage to hide them from view. Setting up beer cans and bottles, Dean had offered to teach Adam how to shoot. Mary and Sam watched warmly from a little ways away as Adam, with Dean’s help, shot a few objects decently. Sam couldn’t help the smile that came to his face as Adam, on his own, shot a few more objects, aim impeccable, Dean wide eyed. “Dude!”             

 

    “I’m a fast learner,” Adam told him honestly, smirking just a little. Holding the pistol out safely, he raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Let’s see you do better.” Dean eyed him incredulously.

 

    “You challenging me?”

 

    “Oh boy,” Sam muttered to himself, looking to Dean fondly. “There he goes.” Mary laughed softly as Dean, cocky as can be, fired off a few quick shots, with near perfect accuracy. Sam met his mother’s bright, mischievous eyes, not expecting her to head towards the other two, following her. “Uh, mom?” Dean looked to her as she approached, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

 

    “Let me have a go,” she told him. Dean seemed surprised by the request, but acquiesced. She weighed the pistol in her hand, turning it this way and that. Seemingly satisfied, she turned towards their makeshift targets, aimed, and fired off a few rapid shots, hitting everything she shot at just about dead center, met with three pairs of wide eyes when she looked back at the boys. “What?” 

 

    Sam and Dean were speechless, but Adam managed to get out a stuttered, “Y-You missed one.” One beer bottle remained of all the things to shoot that they’d brought and found. Without turning her head she shot the bottle, hearing it shatter as the bullet hit its mark.

 

    “Did I? I’m pretty sure I hit them all,” Mary replied in a casual tone, wearing a shameless smile. Dean snorted, unable to keep from grinning while Sam eyed Mary with awe and Adam continued looking shocked. “You boys might be good, really good, but I’ve been doing this since before you were born.”

 

    “Well yeah, but isn’t this the first time you’ve actually shot a gun since you’ve been back?” Sam asked.

 

    “Like I told Dean, you can’t stop me from being a hunter. I wouldn’t be here if my aim was any less than what it is.”

 

    “But how do you get it so precise?” Dean questioned, having grabbed a beer can to show a bullet sized hole running through almost the exact middle. Sam and Adam watched Mary explain to Dean how she approached shooting, and Sam pulled out his own pistol and handed it to Adam.

 

    “Want another try at it?” Adam nodded with a smile, and Sam adjusted his grip slightly before stepping back to watch him aim at a tree trunk. With an intense look of concentration he fired a couple of rounds, and they watched his shots hit much closer to center than before. When shooting lost its appeal, the four decided to test each other in hand to hand combat.

 

    “And no using any of Michael’s hidden angel technique things either,” Dean told him. “We want to see what just what  **you** know.” As it turned out, Adam didn’t know much, but his counters had the boys staggering backwards, winded or temporarily frozen in pain. On a particularly painful counter, Dean exclaimed, “What the Hell? Did you just do a pressure point thing to me?” Adam only smirked. A different counter had Sam on his back, all the breath knocked out of his lungs.

 

    “Dad taught me that one,” he said rather proudly, offering a hand to help Sam up.

 

    “Not bad, kid,” Dean told him a little while later, all of them tired and looking forward to dinner and a shower when they got back to the bunker, “But you’ve got a long way to go.”

 

    “I know, but at least I won’t have to go at it alone,” he replied with a smile, warming the hearts of the other three as the four of them climbed into the Impala and headed back to the bunker.

 

XxX

 

    Gabriel found himself absentmindedly gliding alongside the clouds that evening, too lost in thought to enjoy the pinkening sky and lovely sunset before him. Everything was just… Too much. After helping save the world,  **_again_ ** might he add, his brothers and father disappear, Sam gets kidnapped, and now… Now there were people after him, and he couldn’t quite figure out who. Sure, he had a few ideas, but he had nothing to go off of other than a laugh that made his hair stand on end. He stopped mid-flight, hovering to look down on the city, at the people heading home for the night, at the small community that would never have to know about the supernatural. Did any of them ever feel like their troubles were never ending, that life just seemed to throw one curveball after another at them? Would any of them be able to understand how he felt?

 

    Castiel found his brother like that sometime later, sky now a mix of blue and violet, stars shining brightly, moon waning. He flew up next to him with soft wing strokes, stopping at his side with a look of concern. Gabriel gave him a quick glance before he sighed, though he said nothing. “They’re worried about you. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” he told him softly. When he got no response, he cautiously laid a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “What’s bothering you, Gabriel?” Another sigh.

 

    “Ever since I’ve been back, it’s been one thing after another. Amara’s loose, Dad’s back, Dad’s gone again, Sam gets kidnapped, the Brits are sticking their noses in our business, our siblings are at war again. It never ends. I left Heaven to get away from my family’s fighting, only to be brought back in the middle of yet another family feud. When everything seemed to be going just fine, my soulmate is kidnapped and tortured by someone who lost most of their humanity a long time ago. When Sam’s safe, the rest of the family decides to fall out, and now they’ve taken their war down to Earth, risking innocent lives. When one thing goes right, another thing goes wrong, and it’s like fighting a never-ending battle. All I want is just a little bit of peace, just a little time to be truly happy… Is that so much to ask for, Castiel?” he asked quietly. Castiel embraced him, careful that their wings didn’t collide.

 

    “No,” he answered, “But there is always conflict, and there always need to be someone to settle it.”

 

    “But why does it have to be us this time? I know it’s always been you and the boys, and that you haven’t failed the world once, but… I just wish we could all sit back knowing the world will be alright in someone else’s hands…” Castiel pulled him closer, reaching out for Gabriel’s grace. His brother obliged him, and Castiel exhaled harshly at the overwhelming emotions. Guilt warred with doubt and concern, and paranoia mixed with a hint of hopelessness. Gabriel’s grace was positively drowning in the negativity, so much so that some it bled into his own. Putting space between the two of them, he drew his grace back with a gasp, fighting to get his slightly erratic breathing under control. Gabriel looked to him apologetically as he saw the effects from his grace linger in Castiel.

 

    “Oh, Gabriel,” Castiel whispered worriedly. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Gabriel shrugged.

 

    “Everyone’s been so happy. Sam and Dean have their mom and their brother back. We’ve got the two best soulmates in the universe. Auntie Amara and Dad are back on the same page. The world isn’t ending anymore. I didn’t think I needed to burden everyone with my personal problems.”

 

    “Gabriel, you’re my brother. We’re family; we’re here for you. We’re  **_here_ ** . You don’t have to face everything alone anymore.  **Never** again.”

 

    “I know you’re here for me, and I’m grateful, I am. But… All I ever do is cause trouble, or run when it all gets too much, and I can’t hurt you or Sam like that. I can’t drag you all down with me.” Castiel’s gaze turned from worried to determined.

 

    “We would gladly go down with you, any of us, all of us. I won’t let you push me away again, not this time.” Something shifted in Gabriel’s eyes, sadness flickering to regret for an instant before it was gone.

 

    “I didn’t think you were old enough to remember that,” he whispered, looking away.

 

    “I was, and it hurt me, when I was old enough to realize why you left, why your goodbye seemed so final. But do you want to know what hurt me the most? …Seeing you in so much pain, knowing that there was nothing you could do to stop Michael and Lucifer, knowing that the family was tearing itself apart while you were caught in the middle and not being able to do a single thing about it.  **That’s** what hurt me the most. So I will not sit idly by knowing that you are hurting when I can be there for you. I can’t let that happen again, to me or them. But you have talk to us, Gabriel.” Gabriel hung his head, mind flashing back to the past week. He remembered the hurt looks he’d gotten from Sam when he insisted that he was fine when he had his moments of being lost in his thoughts, face a mask of a deep sadness beyond words. He laughed it off as nothing, and he knew Sam didn’t want to push him, to make him uncomfortable, but he also knew that Sam valued his trust, valued being able to be there for him, to be the person he could talk to. He couldn’t keep going like this.

 

    “I think I need a little more time out here,” he finally replied, smiling sadly. “You go enjoy dinner. I’ll catch up in a bit.” Castiel hesitated before nodding, gliding back down towards the bunker. Gabriel watched him go, before letting his gaze wander. He wondered what he should tell Sam first, and how.   

 

XxX

 

    Dinner was quieter than usual. There was still conversation, but everyone could feel the strange air surrounding Castiel and Sam. Sam had asked Castiel to check up on Gabriel when the two had arrived back at the bunker earlier, and Castiel had been more than happy to. However, whatever he’d told Sam had him silent and lost in thought. Sam met Dean’s eyes when dinner was wrapping up, and a silent understanding passed between the two. Dean shot him a sympathetic smile and Sam nodded to him gratefully. Mary watched the two, feeling a bit helpless, not knowing how to help Sam. Adam watched the situation, feeling strangely invasive, knowing he was clueless regarding the relationships between the five of them. He, Dean, and Mary went to their rooms to turn in for the night while Castiel and Sam stayed behind.

 

    “He’ll come to you, Sam. He’s just…” Sam nodded.

 

    “I know he’s been through a lot since he’s been back. I just… I wish he’d just talk to me about everything.” Castiel, not knowing what to say, nodded, leaving Sam. Sam plopped down in a chair, head in his hands. Was it something he said? Was it something he did? Gabriel had trusted him before with important things, like when he told him he was leaving to free Michael (though he hadn’t revealed everything to him). What was it that he couldn’t tell him now? Before his thoughts could drag him down further he heard the bunker door close, the sound of folding wings accompanied by light footsteps. He stood as Gabriel, regret in his eyes, apologies on his lips, embraced him tightly. He returned the embrace with a relieved sigh, just holding onto Gabriel for a moment. “You were up there for a while.”

 

    “I’m sorry I’ve been keeping things from you,” he whispered into Sam’s chest, but Sam heard him all the same.

 

    “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me—

 

    “Yes I do. It’s not fair if I don’t,” he cut him off. Gabriel pulled back and gestured for Sam to sit. The two sat beside each other as Gabriel told him about everything weighing on his mind. Sam listened intently the whole time, watching Gabriel take a deep breath when he was finished, a weight seemingly lifted from his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sam. It’s just… With all the happiness in your life right now, I didn’t want my problems to ruin it.” He looked away, ashamed. Sam, not having it, sighed, tipping his chin up and asking him, gently, to look at him.

 

    “Hey. We’re in this together. Your problems are my problems, Gabe. Don’t ever think that you have to deal with everything by yourself. I’m here.”

 

    “I know.” Sam leaned down to steal a quick kiss, and Gabriel smiled, a wing brushing hair back from Sam’s eyes. 

 

    “You and Cas should tell everyone else about Crowley and the angels in the morning. If they’re really after the president…”

 

    “Then we need to get to him first.”

 

    “Exactly. But for now, let’s go to bed.” He ended the sentence with a yawn and Gabriel, chuckling at how adorably tired his soulmate looked, wrapped Sam in his wings as they disappeared from the kitchen.

  
  


Closing A/N: The angst from Gabriel just came out of nowhere. Sorry about that. Also, just wondering, but do I have any Ketchvies (Ketch/Mick) shippers out there? I hate Ketch’s guts, don’t get me wrong, but one Comic Con panel with David and Adam and I was gone. I can’t help but love them… So, I kind of was hit with inspiration for how Ketch doesn’t kill Mick… Which I wrote up the other night… And really want to include in this fic when we get there… Because I  _ kind of  _ (really Really REALLY) ship them. ANYWAY, ahem. Next chapter shall consist of Luci’s White House infiltration, Michael in Heaven, and Mick and his internal struggles.


	4. Time For Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should probably spell-check this at some point...

Chapter Four: Time For Changes

 

A/N: Man, writing has been a struggle as of late. High school is FINALLY over, which means I have the whole summer to write, but… I don’t know. I’ve had trouble getting back into the creative flow, which is probably why this chapter is so disorganized and bleh. It’s mostly subplot filler, but it is another chapter nonetheless, so I hope it’s okay.

  
  


    Lucifer grinned, popping his knuckles and stretching his wings, having just appeared at the front door of the White House. He’d been given free reign to do whatever he wanted, within reason as Michael had emphasized with his usual big brother glare, to keep the president safe and convince all of the angels to abandon their mad quest for power, and he had every intention of enjoying himself while he was at it. He didn’t really know what to expect when he got in there. A full garrison of hostile angels just waiting for an excuse to attack someone? A force of clueless and useless fledglings who think they have what it takes to start an almost rebellion? An empty building? Whatever was waiting for him inside, all he knew was that he was going to have fun deceiving whoever was foolish enough to steal  **his** shtick.   

 

    Without knocking he let himself in, rolling his eyes at the attempts to throw him back out. Most of the people he ran into were angels, and he had no qualms about tossing them into walls, throwing them around without concern, or casually snapping one or two of the more persistent ones out of existence. The humans he simply knocked unconscious with little more than a wave of his hand; he had no reason to kill them. Squinting through the walls, he found a room full of his siblings, making his way there without too much opposition. Chuckling to himself, he kicked open the door, the inhabitants of the, rather plain, he thought, conference room immediately on alert. Preparing himself for a fight, he was surprised when one angel stepped forward, attempting to calm everyone.

 

    “Now, now. Be at peace brothers and sisters. I don’t think any of us want to fight a battle we can’t win.” He turned to Lucifer with a hesitant look. “Lucifer. Is there a reason behind this… visit?”

 

    “Mmm… Maybe. See, a little birdie told me that  _ someone _ was after the President. Something about a power grab, hunting down “traitors”, etc., etc. You, uh… You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” he asked with a smirk. The angel who’d stepped forward grinned, but Lucifer could tell he was a bit uneasy, trying to weigh his options.

 

    “Depends. Do you want in?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow, smirk turning predatory. He hadn’t thought that the angels would offer to let him in on their plans so easily. 

 

    “And if I did?” Lucifer asked, playing along. The surrounding angels couldn’t conceal their looks of shock at his response.

 

    “Then we’re happy to have you. After the,” he cleared his throat, “Amara situation, many of us were under the impression that you had reconciled with Father and Michael. They were sure that you were sent here to kill us.”

 

    “Kill you? After you’ve made this whole thing so much easier? You control almost everyone in the White House but the president. Do you know how easy it’ll be to take full control of the government now?”

 

    “What do you need us to do?” he asked. Lucifer walked over to him, patting him enthusiastically on the shoulder.

 

    “I knew I liked you for a reason, Tamriel. You’ll make a wonderful second in command down here. For now, I need you to make sure the president isn’t disturbed for the next few hours…” His eyes glowed scarlet briefly, and everyone else in the room held their breath at the power flare. “He and I are going to have a nice, long chat.”

 

XxX

 

_ “Yes? I’ve been on American soil for five minutes, Mick. Honestly, this is the most we’ve talked in years.” _ It had been a few days since the “Missouri incident” as it had been dubbed, and Mick had finally gotten up the courage to ask Ketch about his idea. He sat in his office of sorts back at HQ, desk neat and orderly, case and intel files stacked neatly, typed up reports stacked horizontally on top of them, computer currently turned off. The rest of the office itself was pretty barren, a few bookcases, a fern, another chair, and a window the only other things in it. 

 

    “Not for lack of trying on my part,” he replied. “I just… I’ve got an idea, about how we can get these American hunters on our side.”

 

_ “Let me guess: you’re going to invite them for lunch or coffee or something to that effect; then, you’re going to give them your spiel about how amazing the organization is and how we have all of the fun toys and such. Was I right?” _ Mick scoffed, but couldn’t help but smile.

 

    “It’s almost like you know me,” Mick joked, and he could tell by the huff over the line that Ketch was failing to hold back a smile. “That was the original plan, yes, but I had a feeling that wasn’t going to work after… Well, you know.”

 

_ “Then what are you proposing?” _

 

    “I still plan on doing something similar to that, but…” Mick gulped, reassuring himself that he wouldn’t spontaneously combust, or something to that effect, if he asked the question. “I was wondering if… Maybe you could… Come with?” There was silence over the line for a moment, and Mick couldn’t tell if that was good or bad, so he continued to explain. “I haven’t spent a day in the field, can hardly pick up a weapon without doubting my every move. If I give a sales pitch about what we do, no hunter will buy into it. But you? You’re our top guy. You have more experience than all of us combined. You’re the best hunter this world’s ever seen. What would take ten hunters to kill would take you ten minutes or less. You know weapons, strategies, and combat better than anyone. There’s not one person in the organization who wouldn’t feel safe with you by their side. And—

 

_ “If saying yes will get you to stop complimenting me like I’m some sort of deity, then  _ **_yes_ ** _. You can stop grovelling, Mick. I’ll do it.” _

 

    “You’re serious?”

 

_ “Should I change my mind?” _

 

    “No no! I just… I didn’t think you’d say yes.” Ketch sighed in exasperation.

 

_ “Why do I get the feeling that there was more to this than just fixing our recruiting problem?” _ he asked. Mick held his breath for a moment at that.  _ “I suppose I’ll see you back at HQ then.” _

 

    “Right,” Mick said as soon as he could think coherently again. “Of course.” As Ketch hung up, Mick took a deep breath, slowly lowering the phone. Why did he do this to himself? Ketch was one of the most observant people he knew. Of course he’d see right through him! True, they  **did** have much better odds of successful recruiting if Ketch was with him, but… Really he just wanted to spend some time with Ketch, even if it was a few precious minutes sitting next to him while talking with someone else. Maybe he was still clinging to the image of the boy he knew at Kendricks, but… He shook his head. No use dwelling on that now. He was psyching himself out for nothing. He slumped down in his desk chair, trying to tell himself that everything would be fine.

 

XxX  

 

    “My king?” a low level demon asked, startling Crowley out of his thoughts. He’d been contemplating the new information he’d obtained from Gabriel and Castiel during their last encounter, trying to figure out how to use it to his advantage. So, the devil had a soft spot for everyone’s favorite trickster archangel, hmm? He did  **not** appreciate the interruption.

 

    “This had better be good,” he told the demon, who slowly backed away as he threateningly rose from his throne. “If I hear one more time that there’s to be  **another** meeting about soul quotas—

 

    “It’s about the Princes of Hell, um, sire.” Crowley froze, closing his mouth and sitting back down, begrudgingly gesturing for the demon to continue. The demon cleared his throat before doing so.

 

    “Well, y-you said to keep our eyes open for anything about Lucifer or the angels, but some of our scouts have seen a few of the Princes of Hell. Both of them were talking with someone when they were spotted, but we don’t know what about.”

 

    “Which Princes did they find?”

 

    “I… I don’t know, sire. I… I was told that that was above my paygrade to know.” Crowley sighed, slowly facepalming and trying not to snap the demon’s neck.

 

    “How does this information possibly help me if you are telling me the  _ least _ amount of details possible? Do you have any proof with you?”

 

    “Um, no, my liege— 

 

    “Do you at least know which demons saw them? Do you even know who sent you in here to tell me?”

 

    “I-I… No. I-I’m r-relatively new here, actually. I was just the first person they saw when they returned. Th-They were under the impression that you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

 

    “Is that right? Well, seeing as how every time I turn around someone’s telling me about yet another problem that needs my attention, I wonder why?” He leaned forward with a scowl. “All I asked was to be told any information regarding Lucifer or this angel warfare going on. The Princes of Hell aren’t my concern. They want to be left alone and they’re going to  **stay** that way, understood?” All the while his tone grew more angry with every word. The demon nodded frantically, scrambling from the room before Crowley could say anything else. The King of Hell sighed, leaning back in his throne.

 

    While he probably shouldn’t have gotten so hot and bothered by the information, he was a bit tired of everyone dumping their concerns on him. So a Prince of Hell or two showed their faces in public. Big deal. He remembered the last time he sought one out, and he’d received their message loud and clear: Leave them alone. If one of his lowlife subjects decided to meddle… Hell’s ranks were spread thin enough already looking into the Lucifer and angel situations. The last thing he wanted to do was try to fend off an angry Prince. And to add to that, he still needed to figure out the connection between everything he’d gathered thus far since Amara and God’s departure… Which probably meant dropping by the Winchesters’, and as if things weren’t already more insufferable than usual… He grabbed his glass to find it, and then the whiskey bottle bottle next to it, empty. And now he needed to go find a drink. Lovely.

 

XxX

 

    “Nice setup you’ve got here,” the second shadowy figure said, shooting shameless grins at the scantily clad women throwing him enticing, smoldering looks, eyes then gazing around at the grand, tasteful furniture and design of the suite they were currently in. “I can see why he liked masquerading as you.” The first shadowy figure, who he’d followed there, hmmphed in response.

 

    “Yeah, and look where that got him: clinging to the Winchesters for a place to stay, to save his miserable life.” The second figure raised an eyebrow, amused.

 

    “Well, someone’s bitter. What’d he do?” The first figure glared.

 

    “He got my family killed, and what did he do after? He ran, like the coward he is, didn’t even stop by to apologize. Bitter doesn’t even  **begin** to cover it.”

 

    “But you’ve still got your boys, don’t you?” he asked, indicating the three men across the room, currently engrossed in a tense game of poker. The first figure’s expression softened at that, warm gaze drifting over his sons.

 

    “I do… But that doesn’t mean I don’t still have family who are never coming back.”

 

    “So that’s why you want him. Revenge…” The being’s eyes briefly glowed gold with excitement before returning to their natural shade. “I like it.” The first figure scoffed.

 

    “It’s a better reason than yours.” The second figure shrugged, indifferent.

 

    “Maybe, but when it’s all said and done, who’s getting more out of this? The one getting revenge… Or the one getting a throne?” The first figure sighed.

 

    “That ego of yours is what’s going to get you killed one day.”

 

    “I could say the same thing about your bitterness.”

 

    “Then we understand each other,” the second figure stated. The first figure nodded.

 

    “And the plan remains the same.” The second figure nodded this time.

 

    “Question is, when do we put it into motion?” 

 

XxX

 

    Jeff swore he wasn’t going crazy. Really. But he  **knew** that he could hear someone’s voice, someone he’d never met before, in his head. Sat upon his bed, he once again looked around his room, for a shadow or any sign of another person. Nothing.

 

_ “Jeff,” _ he heard again, and his head whipped around, heart racing, trying to find the source.

 

    “Wh-Who’s there?”

 

_ “Someone with your best interests at heart,” _ came the reply.

 

    “Best interests? Who are you? What do you want?”

 

_ “My name is Lucifer. I’m an angel who’s been sent to watch over you.” _

 

    “Lucifer? As in the devil? I’m a religious man; I’m no idiot.” Suddenly there was a bright flash in front of him, and he shielded his eyes. As the light faded enough for him to see, he was met with the sight of a man with glowing eyes, a huge shadow of six wings behind him, an eyebrow raised in amusement. His jaw dropped in awe at the sight.

 

    “I hate trying to do things the boring, old-fashioned way anyway,” Lucifer said, closing Jeff’s jaw for him with a smirk as the glowing stopped. “Like I said, the name’s Lucifer, angel, sent here to keep you safe, you know.” He held out a hand, which Jeff shook after a moment of hesitation. “A pleasure, Mr. President.”

 

    “Um, uh… Jeff. You can call me Jeff.” 

 

    “Well, Jeff, I’ve been sent because someone told me I was needed here… A lot’s gone on recently that’s caught Heaven’s attention, but you? You’re something special. You’re a man on a mission. You…” Lucifer walked around a bit, observing Jeff from several angles as he harmlessly sifted through some of his surface thoughts. “Are a true man of faith, aren’t you?” he finally asked, stopping in front of him.

 

    “Yes, of course. I want what’s best for this country, for its people, and… I want them to be able to lead lives of faith, for faith to be something that connects all of us, to be something we all can embrace. I’m not so naive to wish for it to bring true peace, or for everyone to suddenly be accepting of it, but…” 

 

    “You want them to understand how important it is, how powerful it is, for everyone to believe,” Lucifer supplied.

 

    “Yes! Are you saying you can help me with that?”

 

    “I can if you let me in. You and I, together, with your position and my charm, would be able to make that and more a reality. All you have to do is say yes.”

 

    “Just like that? No strings attached? No selling my soul?” Lucifer scoffed at that.

 

    “I’m not a demon; I don’t want your soul. We’d be sharing a body, is all.” Jeff met Lucifer’s unreadable gaze. 

 

    “If I agree to this, we would be partners? We would bring a  _ true _ era of spirituality to America, and heal old wounds?” Lucifer nodded and Jeff couldn’t help but grin. “Then Hallelujah. I humbly accept your guidance… Yes!” Lucifer matched his grin as his form glowed bright, engulfing Jeff as he made himself at home inside his new vessel. Jeff couldn’t remember the last time he felt so alive, standing up to look at his reflection in the glass of his window. He let out a short, but excited laugh. “Swell! Now what?”

 

    Jeff’s vision changed so that he found himself staring at a perfect clone of himself, who stood a few feet away. He realized he was sat in his favorite armchair shortly after, looking around to see an endless darkness surrounding them. Lucifer watched his gaze wander, answering the question no doubt on the president’s mind. “We’re in a corner of your mind where it’s just you and me. No distractions from the outside, no stray memories or thoughts floating around.”

 

    “Incredible,” he whispered in awe.

 

    “Well, Jeff, usually I give my hosts more downtime, but in this case I profile as it is. I may need help fine tuning some… protocols… If I’m going to deliver on all the  _ goodness, _ public service that I promised.” Jeff seemed laser focused then, leaning forward and speaking more as the leader of the country.

 

    “I’m happy to help, partner. We’re appearing at a series of fundraisers here, backed by a fantastic group of aids.”

 

    “So I just focus on the big picture.”

 

    “The team handles the details.”

 

    “And day to day routine?” They conversed for some time, and Lucifer found that he almost  _ liked _ Jeff. As far as humans went, he was tolerable, and seemed to  _ actually _ be a decent person. There came a point, however, when he realized that while he knew a lot about Jeff as a president, he knew nothing about him as a person. “This is all useful information, of course, but if we’re going to pull this off I’m gonna need a few more… personal details. People need to believe that I am, in fact, the President of the United States.”

 

    “Where would you like me to start?”

 

XxX   

 

    “Are we sure this was a good idea, sending  _ Lucifer _ of all people to do this?” Dmitri asked, finishing up with the last patient they needed to tend to for the day.

 

    “Of course it’s not a  _ good _ idea, but it’s the only one we have,” Ameliel replied. “Besides, if Michael trusts him, then maybe he isn’t vying for Heaven’s control after all.”

 

    “He isn’t,” Michael told them, entering the infirmary, looking lost in thought. “What reason would he have to want power over Heaven?”

 

    “Because it’s Lucifer and that’s kind of his thing?” Dmitri answered.

 

    “You don’t know a thing about him,” Michael fired back, focusing his icy gaze on Dmitri, who averted his after a moment.

 

    “All I’m saying is that I don’t trust him. How do we know that, when everything is said and done, he won’t go right back to his old ways? How do we know he’s really on our side?” Ameliel watched Michael struggle not to say what they both knew he truly wanted to. The fact that she of all angels was trusted with the knowledge that Michael and Lucifer were soulmates said a lot about Michael’s trust in her, and she didn’t want him to reveal his secret unless he wanted to.

 

    “Because he has a reason to be on our side again: his brother.” Michael looked to her as she continued. “His once sworn enemy is now once again his closest sibling. Their war with each other is over, and they finally have a chance to be a family again. Why would Lucifer throw that away for a seat on the throne?” She met Michael’s gaze and received a grateful nod, sending him a reassuring smile in return.

 

    “Well, even if that is true, I, for one, still don’t trust him.”

 

    “Don’t take his threatening to kill you personally,” Michael told him. “He’s done it to a lot of us.”

 

    “I-I am not!” Dmitri argued defensively. “And that’s not what this is about. I just think that it’ll take a lot more than making up with you to completely change Lucifer’s allegiance, which has always been to himself!”

 

    “Dmitri, that’s enough,” Ameliel warned. He turned to her with a frown.

 

    “Oh, are you on his side now? Is he suddenly as trustworthy as Michael?”

 

    “I don’t trust Lucifer any more than you do, but right now he is an ally. Without him, Michael would probably have had to undertake the mission himself because our efforts are needed here. I would much rather Lucifer be in harm’s way than the leader we just got back.” 

 

    “And I doubt the two of you, even with your millennia of experience, would be able to weather a full scale attack by yourselves,” Michael added. Dmitri looked between the two, defeated.

 

    “I meant no offense. I’m merely making my thoughts known.”

 

    “Not every angel is as calm as we are, Dmitri. You’d do well to remember that the next time you decide to lose your temper,” Michael told him, now fully healed wings flaring powerfully, form glowing with grace. Both Dmitri and Ameliel’s eyes grew wide at the display. “Because it might be your last.”

 

    “You’re healed,” she spoke after a moment, in awe.

 

    “Yes,” he replied, eyes glowing electric blue, “And I’d like to see another angel try and stop me from defending my home.” 

  
  


Closing A/N: Sheesh, this short-ish chapter is a mess, but I also needed a way to further most of my subplots without throwing them randomly into the main plot, so this chapter was born.  **Hopefully** , next chapter will get us through a few episodes worth of story content so that everything can start flowing together smoothly. Sorry for the long wait on this one, and here’s to hoping we get another chapter soon! 


End file.
